From the Pulpit

As we filed into the Monza paddock on Thursday 13 September 2001, we did so without the spring in our steps that arriving at that great racetrack usually engenders. But that was hardly surprising: what we had all seen on our television screens just two days before made feeling optimistic about anything impossible.

It was on this afternoon, and against this backdrop, that McLaren announced the signing of Kimi Raikkonen. And, although whooping for joy was clearly out of the question, Ron Dennis made no secret of his deep pleasure at having scooped the young Finn from Peter Sauber's protective embrace.

Peter was sad to have to let his golden boy go, but that sorrow was doubtless mitigated by the US$14 million cheque that Ron wrote him in exchange. No, the biggest loser - perhaps the only loser - was Ferrari's Jean Todt.

Prior to the Raikkonen-to-McLaren announcement, most people had thought Kimi was Ferrari-bound. Indeed, the September 2001 issue of F1 Racing, which went on sale in mid-August of that year, sported on its front cover a fetching portrait of the Kimster above the legend: 'Kimi Raikkonen: Ferrari's next world champion'.

The Sept. 2001 issue of F1 Racing

When, but a month later, it transpired that Dennis had beaten Todt in that particular tug-of-love, paddock sages by the dozen were quick to poke fun at F1 Racing's most recent front cover - as, indeed, were the contributors to Formula One forums of websites all over the world (including this one, but I'm used to that).

But the fact was - is - that Kimi very nearly joined Ferrari back then, and only didn't because Michael Schumacher, then only 32, wasn't about to share his number one status with anyone. And, even then, even with only 40-odd car races of any kind to his name (23 Formula Renault outings plus a single season of F1), Kimi wasn't prepared to play second fiddle even to a four-time world champion.

Later that same Monza weekend - the afternoon of Saturday 15 September, to be precise - Raikkonen and Todt bumped into each other in the paddock. One of Autosport's photographers was standing nearby, photographing tyres for a technical article. He stopped work, and looked up, wondering what would happen. This is what he saw, and heard.

As Kimi's and Jean's paths crossed, each man slowed, but didn't stop. As they passed each other, Todt whispered, "Not joining Ferrari will be the biggest mistake of your life." As is so often his way, Kimi's response was silence, complemented by nary a flicker of emotion on his famous poker-face.

Now, five incident-packed years later, the ironies are obvious. Ferrari have signed Kimi, and, although Schumacher has added three more Ferrari world championships (2002, 2003, 2004) to the two (2000, 2001) he had already won when Raikkonen didn't sign for the Scuderia way back then, next season the boy from Espoo may well make true the prophesy shouted from the newsstands by F1 Racing in the late summer of 2001, by becoming, oh yes indeedy, Ferrari's next world champion.

The boots he'll be filling - Schumacher's - are dauntingly big. On the other hand, Kimi won't be even the slightest bit daunted by them. Why not? Because he's too cool. I don't mean 'cool' as in 'trendily attractive' (although he's that, too), but 'cool' in its original meaning, which is to say 'calm, serene, unruffled'.

And, of course, he's as quick as it's possible to be. Right now, only Schumacher and Fernando Alonso come close, and in the modern era (which is to say post-1950), perhaps only Juan Manuel Fangio, Jim Clark and Ayrton Senna have been as quick.

But unlike Alonso and Schumacher - indeed, unlike Senna, Clark and Fangio, too - Raikkonen conjures his speed effortlessly. I don't mean 'effortlessly' as in 'with elegance' (although that's true, too), but 'effortlessly' in its original meaning, which is to say 'without exertion'.

Kimi approaches testing and, in particular, debriefing with about as much enthusiasm as he would accept a mug of Horlicks - which is to say, none at all. Equally, when offered a drink, let's just say that Horlicks, or any other warming concoction, is very much off the menu. No, Kimi likes his liquids very cold and very strong. We all know that.

And yet, despite the fact that he makes no real effort, despite the fact that he doesn't really engage in debriefing or testing, despite the fact that he spends a lot of his time, especially in his native Finland, with his little finger in the air... he's not only fabulously fast but also wonderfully consistent.

Kimi Raikkonen © LAT

Last weekend, in Shanghai, a McLaren engineer who has asked me not to reveal his name put it like this: "It's a mystery, but the explanation is as simple as it is unfathomable: Kimi is a genius. End of."

That he is. And, as such, he does what he does instinctively. Ask him why he's quick, and he can't tell you. How do you balance a bicycle, dear reader?

To the extent that the job he applied for, and got, is Schumi-shaped, he'll struggle to do it. No, he won't call Luca Badoer at 9.00pm one wet Wednesday night in January to ask how the day's testing at Fiorano went. No, he won't email Paolo Martinelli to enquire about the latest heat-rejection numbers on the new V8 installation. No, he won't hug and high-five every mechanic and every truckie on his way from parc ferme to podium. No, he won't be inspirational in that sense. No, he won't lead, as in be a leader, ever.

But what he will do, in the car that the truckies and mechanics and Martinelli and Badoer et al have created, is win races. Loads of 'em.

He'll be world champion in 2007. But it won't change him. He'll still be quiet and shy and undemonstrative, and he'll still neck vodkas by the dozen in his down-time.

Will he win five championships in a row, as Michael did? Or seven (maybe eight) in total, as ditto? No, probably not. He won't hang around that long. But some time between now and, say, 2010, when he'll finally call it a day, he'll have been to places in a Grand Prix car that no one has ever been to, or ever will.

And it'll be a privilege to watch him do it. I can't wait.